


Oh Christmas Tree

by JJ1564



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Tree, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Memories, Sad Dean, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 09:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2845937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JJ1564/pseuds/JJ1564
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean spends his first (and only!) Christmas with Lisa and Ben.  The Christmas tree brings back memories for him and makes him reflect on his life</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oh Christmas Tree

Dean had developed a night time ritual since living with Lisa and Ben. He was always the last one to go to bed, no matter how tired he was; he checked all the locks, re-laid the lines of salt and ensured that the protection symbols were all intact. Lisa understood why he had to do this - Dean needed to do all he could to keep his new family safe. Lisa understood him more than anyone ever had, apart from Sammy. And her experience with the changeling that had taken Ben a few years ago meant that she knew about the things Dean hunted. Had hunted. Before Sam jumped into the pit.

So tonight was no different. Except that it was Christmas Eve and there was a huge tree bursting with lights, tinsel and baubles by the fireplace, and brightly wrapped gifts were piled on the rug underneath its branches. As Dean gazed at the tree, he thought of how Lisa has insisted that he helped her and Ben decorate the tree, but his hands had felt too big and too clumsy. Hands trained to hold a knife, to fire a gun. Hands that had killed countless creatures, and peeled the skin from weeping souls in hell. Hands that shouldn’t hold anything delicate and beautiful. Like the Christmas tree ornaments. Like Lisa herself. 

Lisa had noticed his discomfort and suggested he put the outside lights up. Ben had jumped at the chance to assist Dean, stating that decorating a tree was too girly for him now. Dean’s dark mood was lifted by Ben’s excitement at adorning the house with lights. Lisa didn’t go for huge showy outside lights, just plain white lights around each window and the porch, which looked tasteful and warm too.

Dean’s eye traveled up the tree and he wondered where Castiel was, how things were going in heaven. He had only seen the angel a couple of times in the past few months, they had both figured that if Dean was going to have a chance at a ‘normal, apple-pie life’ then having an angel turning up randomly would not be a good idea. Dean ran his hand over his face, recalling the feeling of his shattered bones when Lucifer had used Sam’s large fists to break his nose and cheekbone, and dislocate his jaw, pummelling him mercilessly. Then Sam had looked past Dean into the Impala, and Dean didn’t know what his brother had seen that helped him, but somehow Sam had gained control back from Lucifer. He was able to release Dean and plunge into the pit, taking Michael with him along with Adam, the poor kid. The new, improved Cas had healed Dean’s physical wounds that day; but nothing could heal the pain inside.

It had been seven months since that day and it still hurt worse than any pain Dean had ever known, and having spent forty years in hell, he knew pain. It was his experience in hell that made it so much worse, knowing that what he had endured at the hands of Alastair was a picnic compared to what Lucifer and Michael would be doing to Sam. His baby brother was suffering unimaginable torment and agony, and there was nothing Dean could do about it. 

Sam was so much more than just his little brother; he was his best friend, his only family, his reason for fighting, and his reason for living. Dean wiped hot angry tears from his eyes. He smiled ruefully at the tree; Sam had never much liked Christmas, but he had relented the Christmas before Dean’s deal came due and decided to ‘do’ Christmas in their ratty motel room. There had been a straggly tree with Magic Tree air fresheners and a string of lights hanging from the branches, a tacky Merry Christmas banner on the wall, glasses of eggnog and presents. Dean had been overwhelmed by Sam’s gesture and it had been his best Christmas ever, despite the knowledge that it would be his last.

 

Dean pulled his thoughts back to the here and now, and was about to turn off the tree lights when he glimpsed a string of small silver bells hanging down from a branch. He ran his fingertip over the edge and they tinkled quietly.

“Listen to the bells, Dean, aren’t they pretty?” he could hear his mom’s voice clearly, as she held him in her arms and they looked at the tree together. His dad had grinned at them both and tapped the bells gently with his finger making them tinkle softly. The tree twinkled with lights and looked so pretty, Dean remembered giggling in excitement and his parents chuckling at him…

A slight noise on the stairs snapped him out of his reverie and he was immediately tense until he saw Lisa in the doorway.

“Dean, are you okay?” She asked, her big brown eyes filled with concern. “You’ve been down here ages, I thought you’d fallen asleep.”

“Sorry, I was just thinking…thinking about Christmas and stuff.”

“Like Sam?” Lisa walked over and stroked his arm. “Of course you’ll be thinking about him.”

“It’s just so unfair, Lis. He should be here." Dean said, bitterness creeping into his voice. "Just like my mom and my dad.”

“Oh Dean, you’ve lost so much, I can’t imagine how you feel,” Lisa pulled him into her arms. 

“I’m so lucky to have you.” He whispered, holding back his tears. “You and Ben, you’re everything to me now.”

“I love you Dean,” Lisa replied, then kissed him briefly before whispering, “now come upstairs and unwrap your first Christmas present!”

In bed that night, Dean lay awake thinking about Lisa. He loved her and was pretty sure she loved him, as she’d put up with a helluva lot of crap over the last few months. Dean had drank too much, had terrifying nightmares, been withdrawn and depressed, and on the whole not much fun to be around. Yet she was still here, with him. He wanted to ask her to marry him, wanted to adopt Ben legally – even if he wasn’t Ben’s biological father he would be proud to call him his son. Yet he didn’t want to jinx what they had and he knew it wasn’t going to last. 

He didn’t deserve this; he didn’t deserve this life, this home, this beautiful woman, this wonderful kid. His hands shouldn’t hold anything delicate and beautiful. Hands trained to hold a knife, trained to shoot a gun, trained to torture, trained to kill. Dean wept silently as he knew his hands couldn’t hold on to anything delicate and beautiful for long.


End file.
